No Way to Make a Living
by Maureen Helton
Summary: Mimi's reflection on how being a dancer had affected her life.


Mimi frowned as she looked around her tiny apartment and inspected what her life had become. She looked at the photos, framed in cheap frames around her living room. Her favorite picture was, of course, taken by Mark. It captured the majority of the group on that New Year's night two years ago. In reality it wasn't that long ago, but she couldn't help feel that the photo was old, older than she could ever be. Although he wasn't in the picture, she could still see Marks smirk as his breath came in puffs from behind the camera. She smiled at the sight of Angel, so alive in Collins' arms. Maureen was dressed in her cat suit and attached to Joanne, who looked slightly uncomfortable with being so public with Maureen. There was Roger, looking relatively unamused. From the picture she saw her own face smiling back at her. She had been so thin and unhealthy looking then. Since that pictures she had quit dancing at the Cat Scratch and doing drugs. She had taken a job at a local pharmacy to ensure that she would have money. She needed some money while she found work as a dancer.

After quitting the Cat Scratch Club she had decided to continue dancing, but in a less risque way. She returned to the classic ballet and tap that she had focused on for the majority of her life. After all, her job at the Cat Scratch wasn't supposed to be permanent. She had auditioned as a backup dancer to some of the same musicals where Maureen had tried out for the lead. Neither one of them had been successful, but they were still trying.

-

She remembered the day she had taken the job. She was nineteen then, and willing to accept any job that would allow her to dance. She had spent the week before applying watching cheap strip dancers on the outskirts of town. She'd never done anything like that before, nor had she seen it and she wanted to have a reference. She had received dirty looks from sleazy men with no hair and wads of cash. Trying to be polite, she would smile back, and occasionally receive some pretty gross remarks. One night she found the confidence to talk to the Manager of the Cat Scratch. It was a pretty reputable club as opposed to some of the clubs she had seen around. She approached the manager. He was a short man with a shiny, shaved head and glasses. He wore a plain black T shirt, tight fitting jeans, and smelled of smoke.

"Can I help you?" he asked. She had been standing at the door for at least three minutes, unsure of what to do. Still, she hesitated at the door to the small, cramped excuse for an office.

"Yes. My name is Mimi and I'd like to know if you have any openings for dancers?" her voice betrayed her with a hint of apprehension.

"You know how to dance?" Wasn't the answer obvious?

"Yes." she answered him with more confidence than she had before.

"Well, Felicia is going to be leaving soon, so I guess I can give you a spot. Come back tomorrow at let's say...8?"

"Okay." she said, standing taller.

"Listen, Mimi, you have a really nice body and I can tell people will like it, but how bout you loose a few pounds? Tone up your tummy? Then we'll see if we can get you in for a night position. You seem like you have potential."

"You haven't seen me dance yet."

"I can just tell. Now, go home, loose some weight, be back in the morning."

"Okay. I'll see you then." she said as she left his dingy office. How could she feel successful and defeated at the same time?

That night she didn't eat anything. She spent the night looking in the mirror to find anything that might wrong with her body. He had been right. Her stomach was flat but it could definitely do with some toning. Her body did seem a little bigger than she had imagined. Losing this weight would be no big deal. She had been steadily losing weight since the age of 8 when she heard some older ballet students saying that no dancer that was worth anything was fat. Of course she had been chubby then, she was eight. But she had taken the girls words to heart. She went on various diets and went for days on end without food to shed some pounds. She had taken up running so she could have some exercise outside of the dance studio. She had lost 20 pounds by the time she was ten, but felt like it wasn't enough. She pushed herself even farther, she needed to loose more weight. Her parents hadn't noticed; they'd been too busy being lawyers. By the time she was 15 she was 5'6" and weighed 105 pounds. It still hadn't been enough. It took her passing out at dance rehearsal for her parents to notice anything about her. Her instructor had called her mother and told her to come and pick her up.

"Mimi, what the hell were you thinking?" her mother's voice had been harsh.

"Nothing, mother. I've just been distracted lately. I guess I've been forgetting to eat. I'm sorry. I'll try to remember in the future." she lied. Her mother rolled her eyes and took her out for dinner at an expensive restaurant. A lot of good that had done. She had only went home to throw it up. It had felt to heavy in her stomach and she could _feel_ herself gaining weight. After that night she passed out a few more times before her mother figured she had a problem. At that point she was 5'6" and 95 pounds. Her mother had sent her to a hospital to help her get over it. Months later she returned home, and back to her old habits. She had to try harder to hide it because her parents were watching her closely.

Alone in the city, she had started her cycle all over again. Within a week she had lost five pounds. It felt good to be shedding the extra weight she had been carrying for years.

She started her job at the Cat Scratch working mornings and early afternoon when there were few customers. She met some new people, her coworkers. May of them were girls like her that felt they had nothing to offer society but their bodies and dancing abilities.

One girl, Karen, seemed really nice. She showed Mimi what was what around the club. She gave her tips on how to spot big tippers and which guys were definitely not worth any attention. Karen often hung out with Mimi outside of work. She showed her that her body could get her a lot of attention if she used it the right way. She also showed Mimi the magic appeal of drugs. Karen hadn't been directly involved in getting her hooked; the most harmful thing they did was marijuana. Before long Mimi was working the night shift. That meant a lot of attention and a lot of big tippers. She knew that if she wanted to keep her job she'd have to loose more weight. Nobody had ever told her this, but she figured it must be true. The women that she worked with seemed much more attractive than Mimi felt. Of course Mimi made new friends on the night shift. She eventually found someone to replace Karen.

Jazz was her new party friend. She introduced her to new clubs and new drugs. Jazz had laughed when Mimi said the only drug she'd done was marijuana. She met the man who could get any drug she desired. He became her regular dealer before she'd even realized she was addicted to heroin. Addiction was a funny thing. Sometimes she knew what she was doing was wrong when she went for a needle, but she couldn't deal with the effects of what would happen if she didn't use it. Drugs had been everything to her; her escape and her downfall. She had contracted HIV though a needle at one of the parties Jazz had invited her to.

Aside from her regular usage of drugs, she was doing other things to her body. There was always a struggle around her weight. She didn't really want to continue the way she was going, but felt she had no choice. And then she'd met Roger.

Roger had been weird about her for a while. Thinking back, she realized that it was because they were so similar. They both had AIDS and drug problems. Somehow Roger had won over his addiction, but Mimi had still been struggling and hadn't realized that she had a problem at all. He could see what was happening to her even when she couldn't. He had once told her that she was such a good person that he couldn't stand to see her doing that to herself. She had tried to quit for him, but it hadn't been that easy. She had stopped for a while, but eventually the cravings and withdrawal was so bad she couldn't help but do it again. It had hurt her to see Roger after that. She felt like she let him down. Finally, after months of sickness and pain, she had overcome her addiction. It had been hard, but she had gotten through it with the help of her friends. But after her run with drugs came to and end, she needed to deal with her eating problems. Everyone had attributed her tiny size and decreasing weight with the effects of withdrawal. Had she actually had an eating disorder? Those words couldn't possibly apply to her; they belonged to snobby rich girls that didn't need to loose weight in the first place. She hadn't told anyone about her trouble with food. She had taken down her full length mirror and shoved it in the back of her closet where she wouldn't have to see herself everyday. She threw away all the pictures she had of skinny girls in bathing suits. She had a lot of those pictures from over the years. She moved her scale to the back of her closet with the mirror. Every time she had to eat she tried to be around someone else so she wouldn't have to deal with it. She tried her hardest to remember everything they had told her at that stupid clinic. She was already unhealthy from HIV and not eating would only make her weaker. Even today she had to fight with herself mentally to eat right. She had overcome her food troubles earlier in life, so why did they choose to come back? It all seemed to lead back to that night she was accepted at the Cat Scratch, and still some time before that.

**A/N– Yeah, okay. Random one shot that was begging me to write it. I was trying to write Queen of Pain and found myself resisting the urge to open a new Word document. Finally, I did, and this was born. If you've read Queen of Pain, then you'll know I rarely reread anymore. I don't have the time. Spellcheck in my buddy**. **New chapter of QoP may be coming soon since this is done.**

**PS- this time it really is going to be a one shot**.


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